Romancing a God
by Ms. Reen
Summary: She was only a sweet temptation. A flower whose aromatic nectar tantalizes anyone who dares to take a whiff of her high airs and once enchanted shall never be the same ever again...I am Hades, Lord of the Underworld. And I will not fall for that thoughtless, Persephone.
1. Chapter 1

**I think it's about time I face the fact that I'm not cut-out for the cute/touchy fiction stories. I want something dark, something close to, if not entirely, upsetting. **

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**Romancing a God**

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I made several attempts to dissuade myself from feeling what I felt. She was only a sweet temptation. A flower whose aromatic nectar tantalizes anyone who dares to take a whiff of her high airs and once enchanted shall never be the same ever again. She was my wife but it was all under the same context of how our relationship was established—under duty and obligation. She belonged to me but she was not mine, quite ironic but true in sense. I promised myself that I _would not_ love her, I _should_ not—though I easily _could._

I am Hades, Lord of the Underworld. And I will not fall for that thoughtless, Persephone.

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Perhaps, I should start from our humble beginnings—me and the lovely, the young and adored, Persephone.

I no longer care to know how many words of pleasantry were said whenever her name was mentioned.

It was not surprising and she was favored by many.

The first time I saw her was under the heavenly gleam of the sun near the house of an old shepherd whom I visited often. I was there to ask of a friend's well-being—half wishing good health and the other, the complete opposite. Cruel as it might be to yearn ill for a good friend, the intention was—in the end—for his sake. I spent years judging the dead, hearing their stories and considering their pleas. I knew enough—or so I believed myself to fully comprehend—the situation of their lives as fully dependent beings to their patrons. Elysium Fields was a paradise for the kind and charitable and I knew, with or without my partiality, my companion was worthy to belong there.

"You are growing old, milord. Surely, you do not plan on living as a bachelor for eternity, do you?"

His name was Leone. He was an old man with a relatively long beard. There were wrinkles in the edges of his face. His eyes were gentle but bright. His smile was genuine but teasing.

"I have no time for such affairs, Leone. They will pose only as a distraction from my daily responsibilities."

For they did or so, that was how it seemed—seeing Zeus' attachments. Leone chuckled softly and once again, I felt a slight regret not to have Leone under my jurisdiction in the underworld. He would make a fine addition to my mortal counsels.

I was not like most gods with beliefs or values—or maybe I was simply too different from those who resided in the surface or in Mount Olympus. I was the god of the dead and yet it was I who found life sacred. While the others would strike anyone who displeased them, I would sit quietly in my throne, waiting. Bullying the weak did not appeal to me as it was for the others. If I ever wished death upon a certain individual, it was either because the world was better off _without _them or my realm would be far better _with _them.

We were discussing the current state of the farmlands nearby—discuss, for I could only advise. I was not capable of providing fruitful harvest—when Leone suddenly stopped on his tracks. I followed the direction of his eyes, and looking at front—near us but still a good few paces away—was a child.

She had dark colored locks transcending between the hues of fresh apples and loam soil. She was tanned and brought with her the scent of the woodlands. I wondered why Leone found her to be someone peculiar—for he had the well-practiced habit of ignoring even the most noticeable distractions when speaking to me. I looked at her closer and beside me I heard a murmured a prayer. I furrowed my brows and followed Leone as he approached.

She then looked up—from the garland which her small fingers were designing—she looked at us. She looked at me. Her great emerald eyes reflected the rich forestry of the fertile earth. It seemed to blend in all kinds of different shades—this I knew, was not merely the illusion of light but truly transforming to a whole new different green from the previous one to the next.

It was only then, did it occur to me that she was not a mortal child but a god much like myself. Of whose blood, I did not know. Of whose flesh, I cared not. Leone stooped near her and mumbled something incoherent and yet she seemed to understand. She placed her little hand on the old man's head and uttered what seemed to me an earthly incantation.

She was giving him her blessing.

Leone smiled. "Thank you, young Persephone."

She nodded and her features softened as she smiled back. "You are always welcome, Leone." She was looking at me again and for some reason, I could not help but stare back. Leone was already at his feet and was now helping the young girl get up. "Lord Hades," She bowed to me. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I replied not knowing whether I should call her by the name I heard from Leone or simply admit I knew nothing of her parentage. "May I ask, what brings you here alone in the fields?"

"I am a frequent visitor here, milord." She said calmly. "I wait for mother from her affairs with the nearby villages here."

I eyed her curiously. "Your mother?"

"Demeter, milord. Goddess of good harvest and the earth's fertility."

_Ah_. So she was a child of the earth. It did not come to me as a surprise. And no sooner did I found out the identity of the mother, I no longer had doubts in the father. Hera spent a good three years or so in the underworld after Zeus' affair with our sister, Demeter. She wasn't able to forgive this one easily. Not when the participant happened to be her sibling. I felt my veins constricting, my hands clenching into fists as my tongue clicked disapprovingly the roof of my mouth. It would be unfair of me to judge the child by the sins of the parents. And yet try as I might, I was unable to contain myself.

"Ahh…Your mother was then responsible for the sudden inflation of deaths in the regions of Eastern Greece? Departed souls had told me of the great draughts they experienced there. They were unable to find food for themselves in the dessert-like lands which your mother had neglected."

I did not regret saying this to her. Demeter needed to be chastised and what better way to do that than to embarrass her to her daughter? My sister needed to understand that the human race was not hers to toy. Persephone did not speak but from the expression that glazed over her innocent face, I knew she was hurt. I did not say more. Persephone meekly bowed once more and bade the both of us a quick farewell. I did not blame her if she chose to run. She ought to be ashamed.

"You should not have said those things, milord. She was merely a child."

"Are you reprimanding me, Leone?" I looked at him incredulously. He might not complain but I knew he shared my sentiments regarding Demeter's selfish actions. "Will you rather have Demeter continue to go on and about neglecting those who are faithful to her?"

"I do not, milord. But I do not believe it is right of you to let Persephone share the blame. She was not the one at fault."

"I did not accuse Persephone of anything. To share the blame will be to divide the punishment, Leone—We cannot have that—Demeter will pay for this alone and with interest. I simply gave Persephone a warning."

"A warning for what, milord?"

"A warning that if she ever dares to follow Demeter's example, it will be met with due penalty." I could not help but sigh at this point. I could not believe I was forced to explain myself and my actions though I know they were in accordance with my conscience if not generally right or just. "It will be better if she understands her place as an earth goddess sooner—that is to care for the well-being of those who depend on her and not to follow her mother's footsteps."

"Ah. Were you also given a similar warning regarding your father when you were young?"

My eyes sharpened. And I glared at Leone in full disgust. "I did not need to be told to deviate from Cronus' example, might I be few in years then."

"Then how is Persephone any different to you, Milord?"

I swore I saw Leone shook his head whether it was out of frustration or disappointment, I did not know. I cut my visit short. I could tell Leone had no intentions of prolonging my stay any longer. He was upset if not in my actions then my intentions. I returned to the Underworld, blameless but blaming. Had Persephone been born of another womb, perhaps I could have forgiven her for setting Leone against me. Had she not been Zeus' perhaps I could forgive her for hurting Hera.

There was that famous saying, coined by the wise. 'No one is born guilty' but I only needed to be reminded of a certain girl to prove it was otherwise.

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**If you've come this far, thank you.**

**Love,**  
**Ms. Reen**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am going to challenge everything you know about the known characters of Greek Mythology. **

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My second encounter with the spring goddess—peculiar as it might seem—happened in Mount Olympus, during the council of the gods.

It was one of the few times I was ever received in Olympus with so much warmth. Had I appeared out of notice, it might have been enough for the others to assume the beginning of a dethronement. Poseidon was already there when I arrived, and on the sight of me, Hera removed herself from Zeus' side to sit near me. Poseidon gave me a humored smile that seemed to imply that had he not been in deep conversation with Zeus, he would have probably followed Hera's example.

"I cannot believe you've waited so long to pay your visit. Have you forgotten that you have a sister here?" Hera jested.

"I did not. I believe I have other brothers and sisters here as well." I replied with the same entertained tune. "But come, onto other matters. I did not come here without a purpose."

"Yes well, what do I have to expect from the Lord of the Underworld. We must truly be lucky to have this whole hour with you considering the everyday concerns of your realm." She rolled her eyes but still maintained her smile. "Tell me how busy is my eldest brother?"

I looked at her and saw the glint of teasing in her expression. "Busier than you would ever care to imagine."

"Can't say I'm surprised."

I shook my head fighting off the grin. "How is Zeus, my sister? How has he been? Come, tell me."

She scowled at me. And for a brief second, I thought I had offended her. Before I started mouthing out my apology though, she quickly said. "He's the same as always—still in good health, still considerably temperamental." She cut herself short and I took it as a sign not to inquire any more. "It's of little concern nowadays. We all learned to cope with his ways."

I did not respond to this. If there were any problems regarding their marriage I did not want to be an active participant on setting fire on their coals. Besides the topic would only break the happy atmosphere the both of us were invested to create.

"So, you tell me. What is becoming of the Underworld these days?"

Our conversation continued. Hera and I talked of the most trivial things to the most serious. True, she was not as intelligible as Athena when it came to recounting anecdotes of the wise but Hera had her own charms. She was the goddess of good marriage and she talked a great deal of the matches she was proud to have seen to the altar. I knew she did not have much company here in Olympus. Aside from Hestia and Aphrodite, I doubted if she had anyone to talk to of her designs. I was more than willing to listen if such an act brought my sister joy.

"Speaking greatly of matches and marriages, Hades, when will you ever settle down to get yourself a wife? All of us here in Olympus are looking forward to it."

Her tone was teasing but her eyes were sincere. I had every reason to believe she meant well but never—or so I did suppose—would I ever be comfortable in speaking of marriage for myself. "Everyone is too dedicated to know more about my life than I'm willing to share, I'm afraid."

"Come, everyone is just curious to know who shall be the future Lady of the Underworld." Poseidon said as he and Zeus approached. Poseidon took the other seat beside me. While Zeus took the one beside Hera—this, I found not at all surprising. "May we join you?"

"Please do. Perhaps you can recommend some worthy ladies of your acquaintance to take our brother." Hera answered for me.

"I don't believe brother would need any help at that, my dear." Zeus smiled while looking at his wife. "He's already a handsome man with all the recommendations that goes along with being the god of the dead."

"You have too much faith in me, Zeus." I said taking a sip from my ambrosia. The usually intimidating table of Mt. Olympus seemed like a small coffee table when shared between the four most powerful.

"We give you what's your due, Hades." Poseidon said with a full grin. "Besides it will be nice to see the stiff eldest brother fall desperately in love for a change."

"Did I really come here all the way from the Underworld to have my personal life meddled with?" I asked in a tone of annoyance. Yes, I was becoming impatient. The subject did not appeal to me. The three of them looked amused though.

"You must admit, it was a nice ice breaker." Poseidon laughed heartily. "Off to more important matters, I suppose?"

"I guess. You are to be the bearer of bad news?" Hera frowned as she rested her back fully on the supporting chair.

"You can say that. Had any of you heard of the Greek rumors?" I raised my brow. I was called to discuss rumors? "I know your look Hades. And no I am not going to make a busy-body out of anyone of you." I looked at him curiously. Poseidon had always been most clownish among us—full of smiles and bursts of laughter. Sometimes, I envied him. Other times, I thought him foolish. In the end of the day though, he was still my brother and in that setting, I respected and trusted his judgment. "But I cannot leave any of you uninformed of the current matters of the Mediterranean."

Zeus sat back in a more comfortable position. Hera crossed her legs below the table. I took a moment to contemplate on Poseidon's words but before I could come up with a reasonable conclusion, he was already speaking. "The fishermen near the borders of Greece are becoming quite noisy chatters. They ruin my afternoon naps and I hate it." I couldn't help my groan. Hera shook her head in amusement. Zeus sighed. Poseidon composed himself and continued. "They are talking greatly of wars and prices—on how the fall of one country could greatly affect the economies of those surrounding it."

"Do the words of mortals bother you, Poseidon?" Zeus mocked. "Do they unsettle the god of the seven seas?"

"Had they been of normal mortals, it would not even pass my ears." Poseidon bit back. "But they were not. It came from a much respected woman, a priestess even—an oracle of Delphi."

"Wait, an oracle of Delphi? Apollo's oracle, you mean?" Hera asked in bewilderment.

"Yes. She is Apollo's in a way at least."

"Well then, I'm confused aren't there some rituals needed to be done before she can share her prophecies, a purification process if I remember correctly?" Hera's question made sense but the whole affair was inconsequential to me. Why should we be concerned of a mortal's thoughts, words or deeds? I looked back at Poseidon.

"Ah! It was her words but it did not mean she was aboard with the merchants and fishermen, my sister." He sipped from his cup and turned to us, wanting us to fully absorb what he had to say. "You see, a king went in disguise to consult the oracle of Delphi about warfare. He was met with a fairly favorable answer, vague as it was. He shared his good fortune to his crew who happened to be regular customers of the seaside trade. And well the rest of it, you three can easily guess."

"But why must we upset ourselves with news of no certainty?" Zeus asked, clearly objected to the subject.

"Would you take greater concern of it once I tell you that the king was Priam?" I looked at the god of the seas dubiously. And I knew he was quite pleased of my reaction. "The young but truly worthy _King Priam of Troy_."

"He is of little consequence." Zeus muttered. I knew he was still upset having to be outshined by his own son, Apollo among the Trojans.

"What was the prophecy, Poseidon?" Zeus was not glad to see me engrossed in the conversation. Normally, I wouldn't even be the least concerned of human affairs. But this—this was an exception. "Did Priam imply anything about the start of a war?"

I knew fairly enough of what to expect in the future from the Fates. To have them living in my realms was both a blessing and a curse. They knew the life of each mortal or immortal that had or would ever come into existence; from birth to death, from glory to downfall. They were strange creatures who did not like to be disturbed in their never-ending work of creating, pulling and cutting human life threads. Though they might be vocal of their predictions they spoke mostly in metaphor—which I could sometimes decipher and which sometimes I could not.

Let the crown be removed from the unworthy head—be it done by the daughter once misled.

I remembered their most recent prediction. And it did not sit well with me. It was saying something of a revolution—a rebellion or most specifically a dethronement. If I guessed correctly, a king would soon be replaced because of a daughter's doing and this rumor from Poseidon only worsened my concerns. Wars were of no consequence to me, perhaps it might bring me more work to deal with in the underworld but I never did complain of my duties. No, it was not the warfare that interested me—it was Priam, the King of Troy.

He was an exceedingly generous man who sought only the best for his men and his country. Might he not be the best husband, he was undeniably a good father. I could not imagine any of his children going against him.

"Strife between gold will bring victory to the army with the finest steed—that is what my men have heard them say. Vague but still pointing out one thing clear—strife means battle and battle means—"

"War." I muttered uncharacteristically before contemplating on what Poseidon had said. It seemed related—the two prophecies from the oracle and the fates. A kingdom would fall—that I was sure.

"Vague, you say?" Zeus sarcastically. Hera glared at him disapprovingly but he ignored it completely. "It is obvious that the country with the best horses is Troy. As regards to war—it is certain that there will be one. But that should not concern us more than it already has by merely speaking of it."

I knew the god of the seas was infuriated by the carelessness of how the youngest of the Olympian triad spoke. I gave Poseidon a warning glance. It would not be proper to start an argument now. Olympus was Zeus'—we should not disrespect his authority here. My partiality to Zeus often earned me Poseidon's resentment. But the natural inclination of the eldest to the youngest could not be helped—I felt myself Zeus' protector. For regardless of his past offenses on Hera, his blatant rudeness to Poseidon and his great injuries to all the other gods of Olympus—he was still my baby brother.

"If you would excuse me, I still have my other daily affairs to attend to."

Zeus left us to our bidding. Hera moved closer to the table, eying me and Poseidon with a meaningful stare. "It is not that simple, is it, my brothers?"

Poseidon and I exchanged looks. In silence he asked for my approval and in silence I gave it to him. Our thoughts were preoccupied by the same concern. "If it had been that simple, I would not even call on Olympus. We are talking about the Oracle of Delphi, my sister—her prophecies are either too specific or too elusive. She didn't give us a detailed fortune; she gave us a riddle wherein the most obvious answer is not the real answer."

It was at this moment did Athena and Ares together with a twelve-year old Persephone and a five-year old Eris come from the doors of the dining hall. They walked over to us. And I did not miss the curve of Athena's smile nor the gleam in Ares' eyes when they saw me. I could not thoroughly explain my relationship with these two. But just as how I found a favorite in their father—I also found myself favoring them from all my other nieces and nephews. Ares was a well-built young man whose love for battle convinced me again and again to enter my retired arena while Athena's interests in strategic warfare and worldly knowledge brought her frequently to the deceased generals of the Underworld.

Eris and Persephone were engrossed in their small collection of flower petals to care for the world around them. It wasn't until the god of the seas took them simultaneously in his arms did the two realized they were in different company.

"Uncle Poseidon!" The two girls exclaimed in unison before giggling on his lap. Poseidon took the time to joke around his youngest nieces—his anger and seriousness now fully dissolved at the attendance of the two minor goddesses.

"The both of you—sit down." Hera said to the other two.

Ares and Athena looked at one another and I did not even need to be an oracle to know what had passed between their short glance. It was a question on who should be the one to take the seat beside me and who should be seated a chair away from me. I could feel Athena's foot stomping on Ares from the vibrations of Olympus' marbled floors. I heard Ares' hissing followed by Athena's quick advancement next to me. I tried my best not to laugh at their antics. But the picture of these two teenagers fighting over a seat next to their favorite uncle seemed like something only toddlers would do.

"Comfortable?" I teased looking at the downcast Ares who plopped his elbow on the dining table—his chin was on his palm while he faced me.

"Fine, uncle though I would be perhaps a little better without a sore foot." I stifled a chuckle from his allusion and I knew Athena was doing the same.

"That's a shame, uncle. He wouldn't accompany us then to those ancient ruins you promised to take us?"

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine, uncle. What is pain to the god of war?" The natural humor of it all didn't pass by my features unnoticed. I found myself grinning. Athena chuckled. Ares grumbled something unintelligible adding to our mild musings. After a few moments though, his expression turned from humiliation to concern. "Uncle, what did we hear about something of a war?"

The both of them looked at me for an answer but I could only shake my head to their disappointment. "We know nothing of it. Except of what the prophecy of the Oracle of Delphi had told us." They urged me to repeat what I knew, and in hushed tones, I told them exactly what Poseidon had heard from the merchants of the sea. They were puzzled at first but came into the same conclusion as Zeus.

"Why should we even deny it? Troy has the best army among the mortals of the West. It's not surprising for them to be already revered as victors." Ares said in the same confidence of his father. Athena assented with a nod—not quite sure, but weighing the words exactly as they were.

"Poseidon and I thought differently. Remember that the Oracle of Delphi is either too specific or too vague. Don't confine yourselves in a single interpretation unless we're certain that it's really Troy she's talking about." I knew they weren't entirely of my opinion but they were considering my words—as I could see in their faces. That was enough for me. "Be on your guard for prayers. Gods of warfare are almost consulted in almost every given minute in battle."

They nodded. I knew Hera was now looking at us with slight concern. We changed our topic. We talked of other affairs that interested us. Hera joined Poseidon with the girls and, for a brief moment, I resented the idea of returning to the underworld. Ares and Athena were my dearest pupils. I would never be tired of hearing their stories of adventures and mischief.

Poseidon had Persephone. Hera had Eris. My sister's disposition towards the illegitimate children of Zeus was something I could never understand. She treated Athena with civility, Persephone with due kindness. I knew their mothers could never be forgiven. The mere mentioning of their names was enough for Hera's blood to boil. But the children were a different matter altogether. Athena was accepted, perhaps because of her own efforts to redeem herself. Persephone was tolerated, perhaps because of Eris.

One day, I would probably understand why Hera treated Persephone in such a way. One day, I would probably share Poseidon's sentiments in deeming her his favorite niece. One day I would probably realize how much of a fool I was for making a big deal about a child who never injured me.

One day, I would probably take it upon myself to get over my pride and prejudice and see her as how all the others see her—an innocent child of the meadows of the earth. But today was not_ that_ day.

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**To those who were able to pick up the hints to where this series would head to-there's a special place in my heart for you, people. **

**Respectfully yours,  
Ms. Reen**


	3. Chapter 3

**Let those who read, judge.**

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I saw her rarely since then and whenever I was given that occasional chance, it was merely a small glimpse if not a hazy silhouette of the so-called Persephone. My visits to Leone didn't cease, though it was greatly reduced to annual calls. The everyday duties of the Underworld pulled me away from the surface. Years passed by without my slightest notice. But then, _what was time to a god?_

I could never truly say what brought me up from the underworld to the earth that day. Whenever I tried to recall my reasons, I continuously found myself receiving vague answers. There was a force of a kind that called me to the surface. An attraction—I could not specifically identify but irrefutably existent—that pulled me up from my abode. The scene which I entered to was of no significant nature—merely the setting of a sun in a cloudless horizon. I purposely drove myself away from Leone's dwelling. For some reason, I wanted to be alone—away from any form of life if it was possible.

_Peace. _

I could not help but think this was _inner peace._

The view of the orange skies as Apollo finished parading his chariot across the sphere of human life was exceedingly beautiful. It was similar to seeing the denouement of a Greek play—the fulfilling sensation in having seen its end was something one could not easily forget. '_Some die. Some live._'—That was how life was for a mortal. It was an endless cycle, an art which I did try to preserve by adhering to the laws of the universe.

And then, I heard a soft sigh.

I looked around. There was no one. But then I squinted and very near me, I saw a kneeling Persephone. Hera had long ago forgiven her. Whenever I let my carelessness protrude from my being as I ask about the subject, I would always receive the same answer, "She wasn't the one at fault".

I would have gladly left Persephone to her designs, had I not smelled the saltiness of her tears. I was not merciless and I did not wish her harm or embarrassment. But it was against all that I believed in, if I left her in such a state. She was cared for by Athena and Ares like the dear sibling she was to them. She was a close companion of Eris—who was Zeus' youngest and Hera's beloved. Above all, she was my niece and I knew I could not leave her in such a poor state as she was, presently.

I did not greet her on sight. I did not say a word. I kept my silence as I situated myself beside her and simply waited. She felt my presence a few seconds late. I was already seated. I looked far into the endless plains of human lands imitating her.

"Lord Hades!" She exclaimed in apparent surprise.

I looked at her. And if my face showed my shock, I did not know. She was different—different from the seven year old whom I once humiliated. Her softened features were pleasant to look at. The curve of her lips and the line of her jaws were delicately shaped. Her hair was now darker in hue. Its ends were loosely curled and framed her face in such a way that suited her. Her eyes were the only thing that remained the same—still transcending the shades of emerald green.

"Do not trouble yourself, Persephone. I came only to assure you were alright." She averted her eyes away from mine. And somehow I saw in her the younger Zeus. The same troubled Zeus who doubted himself in ruling the heavens. "You were crying, I presume."

"I was venting my problems out in the airs, milord."

There was a significant gap between us which I was thankful for. She was hugging her knees close. Her chin rested on her arms. She was not sobbing—at the moment at least—but I knew she was sad. I did not speak. I chose not to. I knew I needed to be careful in associating myself with her. She was still a child regardless of the ten years that was added in her figure.

"I do not understand my mother at times. Often, she will shelter me from everything she thinks is too exhausting for my being and yet she expects so much from me that I do not know what to do. I do not have full control of my powers—I am well-aware of that. But I try my best do I not? And yet whenever I try to improve, she will forbid me saying that I should not tire myself. How in the world, am I to be the Spring Goddess if I cannot even make a single flower bloom?"

I did not understand where all of this was coming from. On how and why she was saying this to a soul she barely knew. Who was I to her? I could not help but wonder.

"She tells me how I must act, how must I behave, who I should befriend and who I should not. She tells me my duty but rarely does she give me the chance to fulfill it. My responsibilities are no more but reminders. At times, I could not help but think I was more of human than a god."

I remembered a similar circumstance with Zeus, the time when we drew lots on whose dominion would be the skies, the waters and the underworld. Zeus knew his duty—at times, I wished he didn't. He was far too young then, too innocent to be expected from of so much. He was troubled, concerned and afraid with the responsibilities of ruling over Olympus—of having to guide the other gods when he himself needed guidance.

"You must forgive me, milord. Perhaps, it is due to the stress of having to satisfy the insatiable." She was talking of her mother—this I knew was obvious. I could not ask her about the subject. There was something in her tone, something in the way she voiced her allusions to her mother that told me there was a far deeper story to it than she would ever be willing to tell. "I should probably go now. I'm afraid I've wasted much of your time already."

She motioned to get up. But I stopped her with a sign of my hand. "No wait." From my palm, I produced a bud of a yellow Narcissus. It was the only flower I was capable of producing—a flower which bloomed from the death of hunter, the blossom of the dead or so others might call it. Persephone's expression was one of awe. Her look was a mixture of discouragement and resentment—maybe there was even an inch of jealousy. "Here, try it."

I gave her the flower. And she examined it carefully. I found it hard to believe that the child of Demeter and Zeus would have any troubles in controlling her powers. She was practically born of the most powerful deities from the heaven and earth. No. It could not be true. It was highly improbable for her not to be in touch with her powers.

And yet she was in full concentration. Both of her eyes were closed and her mind was completely focused on the task I gave her. She held the Narcissus far more tightly than it was probably needed. I swore I felt a slight movement from the grounds. I waited. She waited. The two of us anticipated something but saw nothing. She opened her eyes in slight disappointment. She did not succeed in making the small bud blossom.

"What else did I expect?"

She laughed dryly at her attempt for a sarcastic jest. She got up and bowed down. And before I even managed to say my own farewells, she disappeared. I did not understand why it did not work. I did not understand why the daughter of Demeter was unable to perform such a simple feat of opening a few petals. The minor nymphs of nature were able to do it so effortlessly and yet a goddess was incapable? I found that very hard to believe.

I swore I felt the ground tremble. The first time it happened, when Persephone was still beside me, I blamed my dulled senses. But alone and forced to be on my guard, I knew this was real. And then, I saw a sprout appear slowly from the ground—one, two, three, there were countless of them that were growing rapidly. Each blossomed fully—and I could not believe my eyes. From where Persephone had left and from where I currently stood, was a newly forming flowerbed of Narcissuses.

I was astounded—amazed even, of the result. Was she really unaware the extent of her powers? Or was she only making a fool of me?

She seemed too innocent for the latter. And yet the former was somewhat unbelievable.

I did not think much of it then. She was the spring goddess after all. And she should be completely able in doing things of the like. That day, she merely proved her worth—might she not have been aware of it.

It was true, she didn't have full control of her powers but if she had, she would truly be someone worth the attention of a Lord.

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**Thanks for your support...**

**With respect, **  
**Ms. Reen**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm dedicating this chapter to my wonderful reviewers who keep on commending the unusual structure of this story.**

**Leone returns!**

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If anyone was to ask me of the nature of my relationship with Persephone, they would always meet with the same reply. She was my niece, the daughter of my favorite brother, the child of the earth goddess, Demeter. That was all she was to me, nothing less and certainly nothing more. And whatever was spoken above these lines, were no more but conceived lies.

I did not see her regularly but ever since our encounter in the fields, I met her more often than any of the other gods. Whenever I give in to my urges to visit the surface, she would—by chance or by fate— be within the area. Time had withered away my bitterness of her parentage. And though I did not necessarily like her, I at least, owed her my civility. She would curtsey and I would bow. And the both of us would pay our respects to one another without ever really knowing if they were sincere or not.

Leone was now terribly old. And I knew he was nearing the end of his mortal days. I tried my best to ease his sufferings—whenever he coughed loudly, I would avert my eyes away from him. He knew just as well as I did that he was no longer in the best of health. His system was failing him and neither of us was willing to speak of the obvious. We still followed our routine of walking over the fields during dawn—and regardless of how much I discouraged or threatened him—he continued to be obstinate about the whole agenda.

"Let me enjoy the small luxuries of the surface, milord for I know that there would be a new world waiting for me on the morrow."

How could I bring myself to stop him after he said something like that? I did not wish to preserve his life. In truth, I wanted to take him away with me—if it would exempt him from the pain and sufferings of a dying man. Leone would hate me for sure if I was ever to act on the idea though. He was one of those strange souls who would rather live till the time fate had allotted for them than take the easy way out. I despised his stubbornness but couldn't help but admire his resolve to live life to its final hour. Being a god I could never understand the value of time—I had my doubts if any immortal could—we of infinite days and innumerable years could never truly comprehend the human fear of time running out.

"How are you, Lord Hades?"

Normally, I would simply answer fine and ask him the same question. The circumstances didn't allow me to do that though. I didn't want to know how he was doing. I knew he was in great affliction. I did not need a personal account of it from him. I didn't want to hear it.

"I'm fine—same to as yesterday and hardly changed, today. I cannot ask more and I doubt I'll do so in the near future."

"That is how you feel at present, sire." Leone looked far into the horizons of the endless hills. "But it is too soon to say what your opinion will be on the morrow or the day after."

"I know my feelings will be the same regardless of time and circumstance. I am the master of my fate, Leone."

"It is still too soon to say, sire." Leone said with a smile. "And as for fate, sire. Well—I do not believe we have any right to judge that—gods or humans."

I did not entirely understand what he meant. Sometimes, we gods could be foolish creatures. That even I, who had lived for centuries still found myself lost in the words of dying man. I looked at him and saw that though he was indeed up for a jest or two—he was serious by what he meant. He wanted me to comprehend and share his thoughts but even he knew that was impossible.

Because I am the Lord of the Underworld

The ruler of the Styx, not merely a prince but a_ king_ in my own right. I was darkness, personified. I was death in its truest form. Slow and creeping, always existent, always feared. I felt the cold breeze beneath my dark robes. Leone did not stir. Instead, he eyed me like an odd object worn out of its place. I wondered what caught his attention and turned to where his eyes were directed.

And there, I saw the walking Persephone.

She was wearing a white dress and was walking barefooted. On her hair was a sunflower. In her arm was a basket of wild blooms. She approached and curtseyed. I nodded and bowed back. She talked shortly to Leone and greeted me amicably. There was nothing out of place. There was nothing unexpected. And yet Leone beamed at me as she left—with a smile ever so genuine that I could not help but wonder on the meaning behind it.

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**Thank you for reading and do stay in tune. =) **

**With love,  
Ms. Reen**


	5. Chapter 5

**One step forward, two steps back...**

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The first time I confronted her was during a mortal festival which was attended by the gods in the guise of human scent.

Under the starry night skies, without our sceptres and tridents, it was quite easy to fool anyone that we were merely a part of the common crowd. I wore a long cloak to hide the paleness of my white skin—with a hood to hide the fair visage that lied underneath.

I came for the sake of Ares. It was his patriots who organized the whole event. They wanted to show their gratitude after the god of war gave them his blessing—which ultimately led to their battles being won. I was proud—excited even—of his accomplishment. I made it a point to attend for him. I did not know whether the mortals were aware of the actual presence of their patron but I saw heads turning to Ares' direction and I only approved of his discreetness with an assenting nod.

I was told that Athena would be there as well. along with the other gods and goddesses of Mt. Olympus. I looked forward on seeing Hera and Poseidon again, most especially my youngest brother, Zeus. The night was spent in the merriment of the feast. The people were loud and vocal of their praise. I could not help but smile at the constant reminder of my nephew's success. One day, he would truly be a god of great worth.

I was gazing at the man-made bonfire when I heard someone approaching from behind me. I turned and saw Athena in distraught, reaching her shortly by her shoulders was the young Eris. I looked at the both of them, perplexed; my eyes searching for answers from their heavily breathing frames.

"Persephone...Papa…Auntie Demeter…"

I did not let Eris finish. Athena did not need to be told. I knew she saw it in my actions if not in my expression all of what she needed to know. I could not help but feel upset. Why of all times did the fates chose to toy with me? Why must it be during the first grand celebration in the honor of my favorite nephew? I could hear the both of them panting as they followed me shortly from behind. Guided by the scent of wild blooms and faint voices, I hurried to a western direction—relatively far but still within the borders of the festival's venue.

What I saw there did not intrigue me. Demeter was fuming, Zeus was explaining and Persephone, simply stood in between the two with her head bowed down in submission. I knew I needed to put an end to whatever business there was between the three. Ares did not need to be troubled by affairs he was entirely unconcerned of.

My eyes went straight towards Persephone and unjust as it might be; I made her the focus of my anger. I could not fathom why she needed to show herself. Everybody of immortal blood knew just how protective Demeter was of her. If she simply stayed in her own place, had she not presented herself this evening, surely there wouldn't be even such a scene as this.

At my appearance, my siblings turned. Demeter backed a few steps away, whether in fear or in respect, I could not tell. Zeus made way for me as he had the habit of doing.

"Hades." Demeter bowed.

"Brother." Zeus greeted.

"May I please have the honor of speaking to Persephone alone?" I saw Persephone's expression change from passivity to concern.

Zeus eyed me curiously but nodded. Demeter though, not wanting to part with her daughter, asked. "What cannot be said between a mother and a sibling?

"It is simply a personal matter which could be easily resolved. It would be senseless to bother either of you. Besides," I gestured for Athena and Eris. The two girls went forward obedient but understanding very little of what was currently occurring. "The night is still young. I don't want to prolong you here in the fields any longer especially when there's a feast nearby. Go on. And Persephone, if you may?"

I offered her my arm and whether she was made aware of my intention to scold her through my countenance or through my grip—I did not know. Zeus and Demeter were led away though the goddess was obstinate not let Persephone out her sight. Athena was a compelling force though; one so great that even the goddess of fertility was eventually subdued.

We walked a little farther. She neither spoke nor breathed a word. I did not want to begin unless I was assured that we were out of anyone's hearing. It didn't take long for us to settle though. A few more steps and we found ourselves in front a great waterfall, flowing steadily under the gleam of a full moon. My hand which rested on top of hers—all for formality's sake—was removed. My arm was retracted, a sigh escaped from me and then I started, "What is the matter with you?"

Persephone refused to meet my eyes; and rude, perhaps, it was of me, I continued. "Of all times, Persephone! Of all times! Had you the faintest idea how important this evening is for Ares? And pray tell, what are you doing here?"

"It is Ares' first honored feast." She said meekly, her eyes still averting my gaze. "I wanted to surprise him."

"That didn't turn out well, did it?" I looked at her. Her eyes were still too shy to meet mine and opted for the flowing waters of falls. "I expected more from you, Persephone! Much, much more than this. Now look! Demeter is in hysterics and Zeus, of course, is compelled to your rescue."

"I didn't think mother would be so—"

"So what, Persephone? Caring? Concerned? You are her only daughter for god's sake!"

"I just didn't thought—"

"You knew better, Persephone. You ought to have acted better." From where the words came from, I did not know but I meant everything. And whether she would believe my sincerity, I hardly cared. She needed to hear this, if not from Demeter or Zeus, then from me. "You disappointed me greatly."

Her face sprang up. Her eyes that were only moments ago lost in wander, met mine. We both held our gazes, mine in slight anger, she in apparent hurt. It was only then did I realize how much pain my words inflicted on her. Helplessness was etched on her face. For a moment, I wondered why I had such an effect on her but all thoughts of vanity were quickly discarded.

Perhaps, she had always been this sensitive. Perhaps, my continuous harshness on her was wearing her down. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall—she did quite an effort preventing them from showing while she was with Zeus and Demeter. Now, one wrong blink would easily reveal all of what she wanted to hide.

"I'm sorry for being inconsiderably reckless, milord. I did not weigh down the consequences of my actions. Rest assured, it will not happen again." She bowed to me but before I was able to catch a hold of her, she disappeared deep into the woods.

I bit my lip and tasted something tremendously bitter. The remembrance that I had not drunk a single drop of wine disturbed me more than I was ever willing to admit.

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**You are all very lovely people. **

**Truly Yours,  
Ms. Reen**


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